The Devil Made Me Do It.

And I am grateful. 

The other night in Ottawa, I stumbled upon a theatre festival.  A hefty line-up of diverse performances scattered over many days, I had time for two shows before I hopped a rideshare to Montreal.  The first show was called “Morning Star", a solo performance in which the artist appeared as the Devil, and the 6 or so of us in the audience became visitors to Hell, a mandatory stop before our transcendence up to Heaven.

The piece was performed in a dark, Russian bar called Avant-Garde.  I ate carrot salad and salmon caviar on a crusty piece of bread.   The Devil spoke to us of many things, her fall from God, (different from how the “good book” claims it went down), and at the end sobbed and pleaded on her knees for us to not cast her away as evil, but to understand her as our own fear, our own hurt, our own pain.   She bored into our eyes with her spellbinding intensity, and assured us that we are no better than her.  That the only difference between those who’s grace buys them a ticket into Heaven and the ones who are damned to an eternity of Hell-fire is merely a matter of circumstance - like the severely abused child who knows no other way but to grow into an abuser himself.  “Do not think you’re any better than the damned,” she warned, “because you have the same potential within you.” 

And then the Devil visited me again.  The other night I slumbered in a room with a couple of gorgeous soul'd, fun-loving Ausie fellows.  On a 6-week holiday of party destinations (LA, Vegas, New York, Miami, Cancun… etc.), their adventures typically commence post-sunset, while their days are reserved for sleeping.  Our paths crossed on their evening of “recovery” after 5 consecutive nights of heavy drinking, and so we bonded amidst our bunk beds over Tarot cards (because, that’s how I do) – peering into the crevices of each other’s inner and outer ways of being.  I first read their cards, and as the cards never lie, have converted my 2 new skeptic "mates" (that's what they call friends) into quite astonished believers.  After their readings, they felt eager and prepared to read mine. 

My very first card, in the position designated for my relationship to spirituality, was...you guessed it, the Devil himself.  And as darkness has been an undeniable force in my direct world of late, I was in no way astonished by this reveal.  The following day, the Ausie’s and I decided that we needed a sacred mission to exorcise the devil’s presence.  That together, we had the power to set him free.  And so we did what we needed to do… we climbed a mountain.  Right smack in Montreal, there is a beautiful forested mountain called Mt. Royale, and every Sunday since the late 70's (which it just so happened to be on our sacred-mission day, and the final day of my journey) is a "Tam-Tam jam", a vibrant drum circle pulsing at the bottom.  We used our intuition to select our route up, and when we got to the highest point, feeling accomplished and weary, we were greeted by what could have been nothing other than an angel in human flesh - A beautiful woman seated cross-legged on a blanket, with two adorable pups running about, and laid out in front of her were tarot cards of her own.  The Ausie’s and I huddled to discuss our next move, as the serendipity of our encounter gave necessity to interaction.  And so we approached the woman, sat at her feet, and talked about our mission and her sacred role within it.  I don’t know how long we spent sitting with the wise woman at the top of the mountain, an hour, maybe two – but with her, we found the peace we were seeking.  She answered our questions with joy and grace, and we climbed back down the mountain feeling content in receiving exactly what we needed. 

Sometimes we have to climb a mountain so that we can build our capacity to endure.  The devil gives us this - the gift of attaining strength to overcome.  I'm starting to understand the Devil as nothing more than untamed passion and unresolved fear.  But when we climb enough mountains, we begin to notice that certain mountains are made up of a similar form, and there comes a point when we must look at our karmic relationships to heal and correct reoccurring patterns.  A mountain that I keep finding myself climbing has to do with attracting and then dealing with the repercussions of people who are comfortable exploiting the goodness of others.  So many of these mountains I have climbed over the years, and I am now, officially, no longer intrigued by the journey, because it's tumultuous and dangerous, and hurts most of the way.  And so we get smarter, and realize that instead of climbing up that familiar mountain, we can also just flow right around the damn thing.  Not because we aren’t capable of getting to the top, but because there will be mountains that are much more worthy of our climb, and it just makes more sense to conserve our energy for those ones. 

Supported in my direct confrontation with the Devil, I encountered many angels during my week of Canadian travels.  And as it goes, the ones who had my back the most, and the ones who were the realest, had at some point a very intimate relationship with the Devil.  They understood the clenches of darkness, and because of that, believed in the immense power of light. This became apparent through their acts of kindness, protection and support.  My new friend Josh in Ottawa showed me this the most, as the Devil had him in his grips, and now he is free.  I will hold his story and his care with deep respect and admiration, as our greatest examples are those who have the will to transform. 

As a mandatory visitation to Hell is easing its way to a close, I'm pretty solid in knowing that what comes next is a whole lot of light.  A light that has stronger judgement, higher wisdom, less room for bullshit, and oodles upon oodles of gratitude... and a light that can only shine with such genuine brightness by learning profound lessons from the Devil, as we negotiated our relationship in the dark.